Not only is, we are
small.
Our arms move under the
footnails of the sky,
and in night the sky
moves past. (we go
out there only small).
So proud we touched the moon.
You cannot lay a star
under your eyelash.
But grow into tomorrow while
you sleep, and wake there. This is
the only is.
I love you and hold my hand.
When I don't touch you, I hear your
sound as I stutter through
Indiana. The towns pronounce
their names in your voice. Then
I sleep away under roofs under endless.
I will come together to you after
I've been through this place.
My pieces drift together and move
towards you.
I do not want unknowable.
I want beneath and beside you.
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7 comments:
quite romantic really
"The towns pronounce their names
in your voice":-)
"The towns pronounce their names in your voice" :-)
"This is
the only is."
Beautiful.
I had to reread this. These last two have been profound. Holy smokes, man, you should have an agent by now.
yeah, it's crazy how agents don't just prowl around on the net looking for all the money they could be making by signing unknown blog poets. anyway... I think these last couple have been important. thanks, dude.
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